by Dora Benley
The Omaha housewife who had been wailing and complaining shut up and gawked at Edward in astonishment the way ordinary ladies usually did. It helped also as they got back into their blue Cadillac V 16 that Dora handed the lady a hundred dollar bill in case her car had been damaged in the "accident", which it obviously had not. When the troublemaker's mouth fell open, Dora handed her a second hundred dollar bill to make sure that she remained speechless and mum the rest of the day — or at least long enough for them to get away and leave them in the dust.
They were very glad to escape Omaha. Dora personally would never forget it. They drove until they needed gas again and pulled off the road at Jerome's Tepee in Grand Island, Nebraska. The station advertised that it was the biggest souvenir shop in Nebraska which was not saying much. A giant ornamented tepee rose into the sky in the parking lot. Next to it was built a log cabin-like structure.
While Edward was filling up the car Dora excused herself to use the restroom in the back of the log cabin. But after she combed her hair and put on more lipstick and powder and hurried out to rejoin Edward, she was stopped by a cowboy wearing bluejeans and a cowboy hat along with a long-sleeved western shirt. Hailing from a state like Pennsylvania, Dora had never been this close to a cowboy before and in fact had seen them only in Hollywood movies and westerns. He even had a kerchief tied just so around his neck.
"Excuse me, sir!" Dora pushed her away around him.
She felt something cold and hard pressing against her arm. It was a gun!
"Give me those maps!" He snarled with emphasis. He might look like a cowboy but he sounded like a German speaking English with a heavy accent.
"I — I don't know what you are talking about!" she exclaimed, though she knew very well.
He shoved her up against the log cabin wall. "You and Colonel Ware do not have much more time. I would not be so stubborn if I were you."
He was breathing down her neck leaning very, very close.
She and Edward had discussed this exact circumstance. What should Dora should do all by herself if suddenly confronted with a gunman who demanded the maps? Should she scream? That would summon whoever was available nearby for sure, though Edward might not hear her. Ordinary citizens were not supposed to know about the map intrigue being carried out across two continents. Churchill wanted Dora and Edward to keep their lips buttoned up tightly. For one thing the British government did not agree with the MP. Running his own foreign policy against the Nazis was downright illegal. Although he could not be jailed as a member of Parliament though a backbencher, Edward could. So screaming was a last resort, and their enemies knew it.
Another possibility was doing nothing and pretending to ignore the cowboy as a way of playing for time until Edward wondered where she was and came to look for her. But that only worked if a third, anonymous person was in the vicinity. Nobody was here, not even a station attendant. The log cabin was deserted. The enemy would not shoot if a bystander was loitering nearby. Otherwise he might have the cops after him. And right now nobody was within sight besides the two of them, Dora and the cowboy.
"Oh, all right, if you must!" Dora did what the gunman least expected. She opened up her purse as if about ready to hand him the maps. He stepped back in surprise. And he was more surprised when she pulled a gun on him herself.
Dora and guns went back to the First World War when the Germans had torpedoed the ship she was sailing to England, the Lusitania. She promised herself after that she would always be prepared to deal with saboteurs wearing any costume or trying any trick at all.
She had her first experience with a gun in a life and death situation back at her father's house in Pittsburgh. The saboteur who put the bomb in the engine room of the Lusitania, Ali, had suddenly appeared in her father's shed. He had tied her up and had demanded the maps. She had thought to pretend to give them up. He had untied her. She had grabbed his own gun and shot him dead at point blank range.
Edward had given her a gun in Paris during their rendezvous in 1919. Lawrence of Arabia himself had given her shooting lessons in Germany in the early 20's when they were chasing Hitler. She had practiced and taken lessons back in Pittsburgh without Michael knowing anything about it. Here she was again holding a pistol.
"Let me pass!" she warned the gunman, frowning.
Before the surprised German even got a chance to react, Edward grabbed him from behind, made him drop the gun, and frisked him. Dora grabbed the German's pistol lying on the floor. She and Edward both fled back to the Cadillac next to the giant tepee. Dora would not care if she never saw a tepee again in her life after this shocking encounter.
After they got underway down the highway Edward squeezed her hand. "I am proud of you."
"As you told me years ago, I have to learn to be a soldier's wife. I am still in training, you know even after all these years," she boasted.
"And getting better all the time." Edward patted her arm.
She scooted over on the seat and wrapped her arm around his waist as he drove. She rested her head against his shoulder. He kissed her head.
About half an hour later they pulled off the road at the first auto court they could find. They made love holding nothing back and with no restraint. Incidents like this one taught Dora that she might as well take her passion where she could find it. It was like eat, drink, and be merry. For tomorrow Dora might very well be dead.
Chapter 23: Yellowstone National Park
They left the Lincoln Highway behind as they drove north into the wilds of Wyoming the next day. The roads grew narrower and more uncertain. Dora hoped that meant they were less likely to be followed all the way to Cody at the East Entrance to Yellowstone National Park.
But later that evening things grew more dire as they lay side by side in bed together at the Green Gables Court in Cody, Wyoming with a full moon overhead. She clutched onto Edward in terror. They heard unexplained noises out the window. Most of these rooms were on the ground level in a cabin or auto court style arrangement. It was warm. The window had been opened to let in the slightest breeze. A hand could reach in and crank open the window the rest of the way. Nor were there any screens.
Edward got up right before they went to sleep. He went out in the parking lot briefly and looked around at the cars. Everything looked safe. No one was lurking around with a gun. No one seemed suspicious. But that would have been true in countless circumstances in the past, too, right before the von Wessels showed their ugly mugs or one of their henchmen did. As she lay snuggled against Edward's shoulder, Dora felt as if she were always sleeping with a black stormy cloud over her head.
The next morning very early before anyone else was up, Dora and Edward hurriedly gobbled down a roll or two that they had stuffed into her capacious handbag the day before. They sipped coffee at the front desk. They drove into the Shoshone National Forest and down a twenty-four mile stretch of road administered solely by the National Park Service.
"Do you think the German spies know where we went this time?" Dora asked tensely looking around from side to side.
"I would say it is about seventy/thirty in favor of them knowing. But there is always that thirty percent chance," he tried to be objective. "That is what we strive for. The bad part is if they know there is little we can do about it," he warned. "The rendezvous cannot be changed now. I have to meet Churchill's man at Madison no matter what happens — just as we had to show up at the Stone Tree House no matter what."
Dora had a strong feeling of fate as they started to climb into the Absaroka Mountains heading toward Sylvan Pass at the East Entrance. Tall pine trees rose on either side of the highway as they headed toward eight thousand feet above sea level. The road wound and twisted around the mountainside. Edward tried to keep toward the shadow of the mountain hugging the side of the road away from the sudden drop off into the deep gorge below.
Suddenly someone was following them. Dora picked the pu
rsuers up in the rearview mirror. She tried to keep calm. After all, it was a national park. Other people actually came here to get away from it all and not just to hand over their maps to Winston Churchill's agent. But she started to clutch onto the car seat when the red Ford Speedster started to gain on them on the uphill. Instead of passing them, it drew right up to their bumper and banged against it.
The enemy had the more maneuverable car. They were on a steep incline. Edward had no choice but to use his formidable wits just as if he were planning a battle strategy. After all, what was this but an all out attack?
She shuddered to have to be one of Edward's soldiers in action. Make no mistake about it. He demanded a lot of them. It was obvious. He demanded a lot of her, and she was only his fiancee.
They had been hugging the shadow of the mountain trying not to be noticed. But they had been noticed anyway as they usually were no matter how careful. Edward nudged his car to the other side of the road, the one where he risked running into oncoming traffic going in the other direction.
Dora sensed a trap, but then she knew Edward and his wily ways well. The other driver did not. He followed them straightaway thinking that Edward was doing anything that he could to escape the agent's powerful little sports car that was all vrrroom. The enemy would have to learn the hard way.
The man had followed Edward that far, so Edward went farther. He veered even closer to the edge as if still trying to escape the sports car. He was obviously trying to simulate an outright state of panic, but anybody who really knew him would not be fooled. He would not be a colonel in His Majesty's Armed Forces if he engaged in indulgent emotional behavior like that.
Of course Dora did not like to take chances no matter how calculating Edward was. Edward was not like her. He was not clinging to his seat and grinding his teeth together. He was in full concentration mode climbing the hill at the same time he was trying to deceive and distract the other driver and at the same time he was looking out for oncoming traffic around the sharp bends and switchbacks leading into the park.
When the enemy got too close to his bumper again, Edward swerved back to the right toward the mountain and the rocks lining the road. The agent followed him back. Edward did not wait for him to get there. He zoomed over to the edge again without wasting a single second.
"Edward, watch out!" Dora screamed.
A Chevrolet Eagle was coming the other direction heading toward them. Edward gripped the steering wheel with both hands in his concentration on minute movements of the wheel. Dora looked behind them. The Ford was lower to the ground and concentrating exclusively on sneaking up on Edward's bumper. She doubted if the von Wessel henchman even saw the oncoming vehicle.
At the last possible moment as the Chevrolet Eagle rounded the bend honking and putting on its brakes, Edward turned the wheel sharply to the right. The car behind him did not turn when Edward did. Instead it was speeding up straight ahead to ram Edward's bumper. The Chevrolet came to a grinding halt in the middle of the road. The Roadster went flying off the road into the precipitous canyon.
Dora's nerves were totally frazzled after just barely surviving the near death experience at eight thousand five hundred and thirty feet above sea level as the sign along the side of the road informed them. What would come at them around the next bend? After all, it could have easily been Edward and her flying off into the canyon of no return.
Chapter 24: Lake Hotel
Not long after that they passed through the East Entrance to Yellowstone. The ranger on duty at the entrance handed a map guide through the window. Dora found herself unfolding it as Edward drove.
"Look up the Madison River," he barked. "That is another thing I have never seen before — a map of Yellowstone — and that is where we finally are right now. For some reason none of those road side stops sold anything so damn practical."
The park did seem indeed to be vast. She hoped they would not get lost now on top of everything else.
"What road are we on now?" he asked, coming down from what seemed to be the highest hill she had ever driven on in her life.
Dora had traveled from Pittsburgh to New York to England and Germany across the Atlantic, but she had never before visited an American national park. She tried hard to find what he was asking for. The ranger had handed them the "Motorists Guide Yellowstone National Park 1933". The brochure was a light green design with dark green borders around the edges. It showed the giant Yellowstone waterfalls in the far distance with lots of mountains and hills surrounding it. In the foreground was a sketch of a black bear hiding himself behind a fallen log with tall lodgepole pine trees all around him.
She finally found the foldout pages called "Guide Map Of Yellowstone And Grand Teton National Parks" and studied the map closely. "It says Sylvan Pass is right here," she pointed. "That is where we just were at the East Entrance Station."
"That is behind us now." Edward was getting impatient. She supposed Edward's mood was only to be expected considering the level of stress involved in the spy operation.
"We must be headed for Sylvan Lake," she guessed.
"That must be up head here," Edward peered over the steering wheel. Sure enough they were approaching a large body of water by the side of the road. A snowcapped peak that must be called Avalanche Peak at ten thousand five hundred eighty-eight feet in elevation rose behind it. In front of it stood posed a row of lodgepole pines. The mountain and the pines cast their reflections on the pure blue waters beneath. Another peak called Grizzly Peak at nine thousand nine hundred forty-eight feet rose on the other side of the park road. Despite the fact that it was already June, Dora could pick out traces of melting snow along the road side.
She shrugged. "I'm getting the idea that the figure eight park roads do not have names. Those are the red lines." She held up the map for him to see. "I think green must stand for water. What they mark in black are the sightseeing attractions and features along the side of the figure eight loop."
"Good girl!" He patted her thigh with a good smack. "See if you can find a marker for the Madison River picnic grounds, the Madison River, a Madison campground, or something similar to that. That is where we are supposed to meet Churchill's chosen and picked agent later this afternoon at exactly 3PM." He looked quickly down at his gold pocket watch to check the time. Then he stuffed it back inside his pocket.
After coming all this way she could see where Edward would not want to be late and would not want to miss his planned rendezvous. But her stomach was starting to growl. Even Edward's stomach was starting to growl, too. She could hear it. It was rebelling against the over strict regimen Churchill had placed them under.
"This is the Lake Hotel up ahead," Dora announced. She did not have to identify it on the map. The large rambling yellow hotel spread out over several acres right on the shore of Yellowstone Lake, which the map indicated was the largest fresh water lake at high elevation in the whole country.
Neither one of them had to announce that it was lunch time. Their stomachs had made that more than obvious. "All right, Dora," Edward sighed as he pulled into the parking lot in the back of the hotel (the front faced the lake). Maybe once we are seated we can search on the map for that Madison River campground or whatever it is called."
"I don't think it is in this section of the park." Dora climbed out of the Cadillac and slammed the door behind her. "I did not see it pictured anywhere around the Lake Hotel."
They entered the building from the parking lot and were ushered into a large dining room looking out over the shore line, the lake, and the mountains beyond.. It featured floor to ceiling windows. After they ordered the special of the day not to be picky and hurry up, Dora took out the map and studied it some more. She looked in every direction and could not see anything about a Madison anything, and it was a large map.
Edward took the map from her impatiently and studied it himself. "Over here!" He jabbed his finger at the
map.
It was on the other side of the park! But all it said was Madison Junction. There was nothing about a river, a campground, or a picnic area. Were they to assume that was where it was located? It was probably a logical assumption, But considering what was riding on it they needed to make damn sure.
When the waiter delivered the food, Edward asked him. "Do you know where the —" The words died on his lips. It was obvious he was intending to ask him where the Madison campground was located. Dora was trying to follow what he was thinking. The expression on his face suddenly became guarded, too. What had happened?
Edward changed his words to, "Do you know where the bathroom is located?"
"Sir, the men's room is down the hall in that direction," the man replied.
Dora was staring hard at the waiter trying to figure something out. He looked very, very familiar from somewhere.
As soon as he left the table to wait on somebody else Edward hissed, "That was one of those photographers!"
Dora ate her soup and studied the waiter at the same time. She took a bite of her sandwich. "I am not sure I ever got a very good look at either of them. They kept on jumping out at us with those awful cameras with the big flash guns. All we ever did was flee. I think I recognized them by the picture taking equipment, nothing else." She shrugged.
"I would swear it is one of those two troublemakers," Edward insisted.
"Where is his camera then?" Dora asked.
"He obviously can't take it out on the floor when he is waiting on people. It is too big to lug around. But wait until he gets back into the kitchen. Then he and that jerky friend of his will emerge once more with cameras in hand. Why else would they be here?" He looked very suspicious.
Dora got the idea that they were never going to be allowed to finish a meal in peace even as faraway as Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming. She wondered if they had finished one yet since she met Edward at the harbor in Manhattan.